(Me in the "dark ages" of my life, also known as undergrad.)
. . .
I just spent two late nights doing the emotional equivalent of consuming a tub of ice cream.
It began innocently enough. November 4 marked the anniversary of a friend's passing and I wanted to find a photo of him. I cracked open my LiveJournal to find the entry referring to his passing, and I found myself faced with three years of overflowing hatred and anger.
[Envision this scene for a moment: Flo sits on her chaise lounge playing music from lyrics referenced in each journal entry. She laughs frequently, writes rhetorical letters to ex-boyfriends, deletes them all, bursts into random bouts of tears, and caps the night off by sending up a prayer to God to thank him for saving her from all of that hell. All of this while completely sober.]
As I read, I had to keep pausing to remind myself that I am 25 years old now and in a happy place. I was so dark and vengeful that I literally scared my current self. Those three years (2003-2005) were the roughest of my life because I was brainwashed through all of them.
I had a long-distance boyfriend for over two years. He was my first boyfriend. I was stalked, degraded, abused and lied to constantly. During that time, I moved to Texas where he lived, moved back home, and eventually became traumatized enough to leave him. The end.
Unfortunately, it took me years to start fixing the damage he did. I had three tumultuous relationships with three (actually quite wonderful) guys in one year, and all three dumped me. By the time I met Brian, I was literally a mangled heap of scraps and I was resigned to the fact that I did not deserve to have a boyfriend. I spent the first few weeks of our relationship regarding him like a dangerous explosive, waiting for him to show some sign of either being psycho or running in the other direction. When neither happened, I decided I was going to marry him ;) I kid, I kid. I will tell our love story some other day.
I look at myself now and I am astounded that I actually turned out normal and stable. I would show you that crazy journal but I simply do not want to expose that ugly person ever again. My writing literally felt like a wall of resentment and hate. I criticized everything around me and I blamed everyone else for my problems. I was probably bipolar, but I know now that it was not a reflection of me.
From this seat in my beautiful home filled to the brim with love, respect and happiness, I see myself now as I have always been: a good person. I attribute a huge amount of my transformation to Brian and the support he has provided all these years, but I know that a lot of it has come from within too. The best metaphor I can think of is cliche but appropriate: I feel like I'm a phoenix risen up from the ashes.
8 comments:
Flo, I can totally related to this post on some levels. My first love and I ended up in a long distance relationship, engaged, and then he cheated on me - at least twice that I know of. All in that order. The night before he was suppose to move back to Savannah, he had a one night thing that resulted in him getting a girl pregnant. What's even funnier is the kid was born on what would have been my three year anniversary with this guy. {Heard and been told the kid ended up not being his, but who cares at this point, I know I don't.} Long story short, it took me years to recover from all of that...and the verbal and emotional abuse and stalking that followed after I broke up with the guy. I too, wonder, how I came out of that as a normal human being.
The crazy thing is to this day I can see him on the street and have a civil conversation with him. We can talk like civil human beings. I have forgiving him for everything, not for him, but for me. People may think I am crazy for still acknowledge that is alive but hey, you never know what you will do until you are in your unique situation. Kudos to you, to both of us, for crawling out of tough situations and becoming the people we were always meant to be. :)
Wow, haven't spoken on that subject in a long time!
Four years ago on November 4th I was in Iraq. We received a call that I trauma was coming in but that this time, it was people from out battalion. The majority of traumas we received were from other battalions in our brigade and a few national guard units stationed in our area. I don't remember much from that day other than trying to save a friends life. Last November 4th was the first happy one I've had in a long time.
http://www.arlingtoncemetery.net/dayancey.htm
Flo, I love your writing. So honest. So passionate. Flows like a brook through the woods, beauty leading to a destination.
Peace.
Gosh...brings back memories of my own tumultuous, ugly, mentally abusive relationship. Mine lasted 3 1/2 years, and boy did it screw me up. The distance of college broke us up, and I was finally freed from my shackles...and then I met Galen. :)
And now my heart, my marriage, and my life is filled with beauty and joy. There's hope for us all!
Oh, I relate to this. So, very much. I still find myself going back to that dark place from time to time but Anthony (my husband) always knows how to bring me back to reality. I love him, and I'm blessed to have him in my life. He saves me from myself.
We are lucky, Flo. We survived.
It's Trina.
I'm breathless -- I can identify with the every last word of you last two paragraphs [except change Brian to Alex].
So glad to have found you again.
Your writing is like the first sip of freshly popped champagne. =)
I love you, and I'm glad you're happy now. No need to say anything more than that. =)
I want not agree on it. I assume polite post. Particularly the appellation attracted me to be familiar with the intact story.
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